


Single every single day, do it every single way

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol, Depression, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, No Homo, No one is gay for moleman, Prostitutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: And if I were gay,Though I swear I'm straight,I'd make the fellas say, "Oh, Bo!"





	Single every single day, do it every single way

"You're real good-looking."

She had fluffy hair and soft lips. Pale skin, deep eyeshadow and long lashes. Thick, with a crop top barely covering her burgeoning chest, and shorts that left little to the imagination. That was all Murderface knew about her. That was all he needed to know. "My name's Maylene. Hand me a tip if you wanna have a good time, daddy."

"Y...yeah."

He swallowed roughly. "How much."

"Twenty for oral."

"Perfect." His palms were sweating as he passed her two crumpled ten-dollar bills. Maylene ruffled her puffy, black bangs, shifting them away from her eyes and holding the dollars to a lamp nearby. She then shoved them into her purse.

"Alright, sugar. You got a room to take this to?"

"...Isch kinda far."

"S'okay." She pressed closer and closer to him. "New Year's party is active, I doubt anyone'll come out here." He was drunk, just drunk enough to think it was a good idea. And even if he wanted to change his mind, she was already on her knees, breathing hot on his crotch. "You hard for me, big guy?"

He swallowed.

_He wasn't._

She was tugging at the zipper with her long black nails, her lips puckered in concentration. Come on. She was hot. Think about her tits. Her ass. Those plump fucking thighs. He swallowed.  _Close your eyes._ She was good looking, what was the matter with him?! She curled her lip a bit. "Come on, babe. Don't be shy." Hot, hot breath. She was so nice and gentle. He scratched the wall. "Come on now." Nothing. He couldn't even muster a bit of blood in his groin.

"Schorry."

"It's okay." It clearly wasn't. Her hand wrapped around his floppy shaft, tight, and warm. "...Are you gay?"

_"No!"_

Of course he wasn't. He was the antithesis, the opposite of gay. And now he was shaking. Because when people asked him stuff like that, he'd get frightened. "Fuckin' hurry up, I ain't got all night, dammit!"

"Alright, alright."

Her mouth met the tip of his dick. It was warm and wet. And when he looked down at her, it seemed to ruin everything.

Even though she was soft and creamy and thick and beautiful, like a woman in a medieval painting. Her lips were painted and her hands were gentle and she didn't even use a bit of teeth. So why?  _Why couldn't he do anything?! Why couldn't he get it up for this cute, nice lady?!_

_"Are yeh thinkin' a' someone else?"_

He closed his eyes. Shit, he was, he was completely out of this place. But that voice. That wasn't a lady's voice, not a lady he knew, for sure. But he knew that voice. When he closed his eyes he could see a flash of freckled hands on his pudgy hips. He opened them again. No, no, no, dear god, this couldn't be happening. He thanked god that Maylene didn't even bother to look up, because the booze was tearing his heart apart and tears were gushing from his eyes.

His heart pounded. He closed his eyes again.

_"Man, this is pretty gay, you know."_

Big. With the same black fingernails. Long dark hair splayed across his legs. He almost looked like a woman. He was so close. "There we go." It was working. He wanted to die, his nose was running and his chest felt tight. He was so big and strong. He wanted those lips all over him. Please, god. He wanted to kill himself. He just wanted to die, more than anything, he fucking wanted to die. He'd be smited, sent to hell. He'd never see his mom again.

_"You's lookin's sad. Why's dats?"_

He could nearly feel the mustache tickles on his inner leg, big blue eyes peering into his heart. He wanted those lips on his mouth.  _No, wait, no he didn't!_ That'd be weird, and wrong, and dirty, and he was thinking about stupid guys while getting sucked off by a hot babe. He felt sick. There was something wrong with his dirty stupid brain and he needed help, he needed a lobotomy. He needed to have chunks of his brain removed until he became comatose, even that'd be better than what was happening.

_"You likes it whens I does dat?"_

Blonde. His lips were big and his cheekbones were powerful. He wanted it, he wanted it so bad, but he didn't, he didn't at all. He suddenly felt a tearing in his body. He loved them all so much. Not just that. He was so fucking lonely. His back arched and he screamed so loud that it hurt his throat, and Maylene choked it down like a professional. And then she stood, and left, like he was nothing, and he was. He was fucking nothing. His stupid dick hung out and he fell to the ground in a drunken heap. He needed more alcohol. He needed to forget. It was dirty and wrong and though nobody would ever know, it'd still haunt him.

_"You're a fucking failure of a grandschon, but at leascht you ain't a queer."_

He was so sorry. So, so, so sorry.

Sorry, Pickles. He didn't mean to think about his hands on his fat, stupid waist. Clutching handfuls of his gross skin. Sorry, Nathan. He didn't mean to imagine his singing mouth planting kisses on his heaving chest. Sorry, Toki, he didn't mean to imagine getting kissed by him and held by him and loved by him. Sorry, Skwisgaar, he didn't mean to think about those plush lips in places they didn't belong. He wasn't gay. He was normal, it was an accident.

But the fact still stood.

He sure as hell wasn't thinking about Maylene.


End file.
